This trend has added some profound and moving content to variety shows, which have long been criticized as vulgar and shallow. But it has also brought controversy. . . .
Recently Taiwan prime-time variety shows, traditionally devoted to singing and silliness, have taken part in a new wave-telling "true life" stories with such themes as "searching for a long-lost loved one," "repaying a benefactor," "charity," and "warmth." Striking like a tear-gas canister, they not only set the people immediately involved weeping, they turn the usually light-hearted hosts red-eyed with emotion; many audience members are likewise deeply moved.
One of the earliest programs to include a segment of this nature is Super Sunday, hosted by Chang Hsiao-yen and Harlem Yu. In the segment, entitled "Super Mission," the producers invite the long-out-of-touch relatives, friends, and benefactors of a star on to the program. The segment not only tells the star's story, but the reunion scenes and expressions of gratitude have become highlights of the program.
The show True Love Match, which began broadcasting early this year, brings together people whose first marriages have failed to find a "second spring." Fourteen people are invited for each episode. In a segment entitled "True Confessions," they describe their former marriages. Often, reminiscing about the pain or regret they feel, they weep copiously.
Tracks of their tears
True Love Match emcee Hu Kua hosts another variety show on a different network called Red and White Victory. One segment, entitled "Plan for Success," helps needy people from all corners of society to realize long-held hopes. The format focuses on an unfortunate individual. It first shows a video of this person's daily life, then the individual is interviewed on the program, and tells the prize they would like to win. Then a celebrity-acting as "Ambassador of Success"-comes out and must complete some test, like throwing a basketball in a hoop or hitting a dart board target. If the star is successful, the program pays for the person's desired prize; otherwise, the person's hope is left unrealized.
The format of this segment resembles the old show Loving Heart, which encouraged people to help some unfortunate. But the new program has an even more direct emotional appeal insofar as it cuts in live shots of the reactions of the hosts and audience members, sometimes zooming in on the superstar celebrities as they weep. Such images cause many people at home to jump up to contribute money. After one April show featuring a poor elderly woman with no one to rely on named Li Tuan, they received over NT$4 million in donations.
The Dragon Tiger Variety Show has added a segment called "Resurrection: Love Stories." It reunites men and women who have broken up. Prior to being reunited, the two people naturally want to tell their stories, explaining in detail how and why they broke up. Sometimes, this opens up a Pandora's box of resentment, pain, anger, rejection, and misunderstanding, and the feelings of the two people are paraded across the screen. Of course, the hosts and guest stars try to wind up the segment on a happy note by steering the two people to remember the good times, and encouraging them to shake hands, so that both sides end up laughing through their tears.
If not for her. . . .
Chang Hsiao-yen, who was a child star and has been in the entertainment industry for over 40 years, has been very successful as a variety show host. In interviews, she has always liked to draw celebrities into revealing their deepest feelings. She once interviewed singer Hsing Hsiao-chi about her break-up with her boyfriend before she became famous, causing the sad Hsing to cry on camera. Even today many people can recall the image of Hsing, her face marked by two black streaks of running makeup.
"Today the audience wants reality. Besides enjoying the performances of the stars, they also want to understand as much as they can about their off-screen lives, experiences, and different aspects of their personalities," says Super Sunday producer Angi Chai of the Fu-Hong company. Right from the start she proposed ideas focusing on the life experiences of invited guests.
Chai chose to focus especially on the search for past benefactors as a result of her own father's experience. When her father was fleeing mainland China at the time of the communist takeover, his money was stolen. It was Chinese New Year's Eve, and there he was on the pier, not a penny to his name, not knowing what he would do. Suddenly someone hailed him, and, upon learning his tale, pressed some money upon him, money which enabled him to board the ship and flee danger.
Chai's father has always remembered this act, and has long sought to find this benefactor to express his gratitude. Chai was inspired to think that most everyone must, to some extent, have had people in their lives about whom they think, "If it weren't for him [or her] back then, I might have ended up. . . ." So she designed a program segment around this theme.
This segment has indeed sparked a wave of gratitude. The production unit has become a sort of super detective agency. They have helped more than 100 celebrities who have asked for assistance in finding people. Even Chang Fei, himself a well-known host of a competing variety show, has been a guest on the program. They helped Chang retrace his first heartthrob, who he has never forgotten, and also his middle school military instructor, who devoted great efforts to guiding him. He is thrilled at the idea of expressing gratitude through TV, saying it is 100 times more effective than contacting these people in private. "I can let the whole world know how grateful I am to them!" The impact has been such that many viewers have called in asking to go through the program to find lost benefactors. Unfortunately, given that famous people have more dramatic impact and drawing power, these requests have not been accepted.
Packaging hard feelings
Although the stars glitters, so that their otherwise mundane stories appear "gold-plated," the true stories of everyday people can also enrich the screen and close the gap between the programs and viewers. The featured players in True Love Match, "Plan for Success," and "Resurrection: Love Stories" are all regular folks. But, under the direction of the producers, they also can squeeze out moving tears.
Author and painter Annie Chen, who accepted the invitation of such a program and faced probing, difficult questions, says: "It's a very clever, sophisticated form of packaging. Sentimental themes-like tragedy, reminiscence, and charity-can create a link between your own experience and the viewer's, and have the effect of sparking and releasing emotions." First the focus of such "personal stories" was only on celebrities, but this has reached the saturation point. Production companies have had to turn to mining the experiences of ordinary people. Thanks to careful packaging, "news programs have become more interesting than dramatic serials, and variety shows have become more moving than social education programs."
"Some subjects are eternal, and it's just a matter of keeping the packaging up with the times," says Chin Meng-chun, a professor of social education at National Chengchi University (NCCU) who frequently appears in the broadcast media. He points to the example of programs that introduce men and women to each other and explore problems of male-female relationships. There has been an inexhaustible supply, from programs of the past like I Love the Matchmaker, Women Women, and Lightning Strikes, to today's Very Male and Female, and True Love Match, and audience share has not dwindled.
"As society has become increasingly open, people are more and more willing to express themselves and candidly reveal their experiences, thoughts, and feelings," says Chin. For example, men and women who appear on True Love Match can relate their marital experiences to the entire nation, revealing even problems of extramarital affairs, domestic violence, and sexual abuse. "The show reflects the marital traumas which are common in society today."
Fake?
The designs of these programs show that the producers are amazingly good at understanding what the viewers want. Moreover, in comparison to other current programming-replete with violence, sex, supernatural mumbo-jumbo, and crime-these gently sentimental shows are a breath of fresh air.
Nevertheless, these shows have also come in for their share of controversy and criticism. In particular, there is often room for doubt about the veracity, or at least completeness, of the stories, so that people often feel they are "phoney." There have definitely been cases of viewers finding out that the performer and the "long-lost" benefactor reunited by "surprise" on a particular segment in fact had just recently been brought together on some competing program. And it seems that professional actors have been used to play the lead roles in these shows that tout themselves as emphasizing "real people and real events."
In addition, a point that is particularly scorned is that the normally jovial program hosts look unnatural and out of place when doing these emotive segments. Variety shows still are played mainly for laughs and entertainment. Inserting these segments is a gimmick intended to add drama. The hosts, stuck between solemnity and silliness, often look embarrassed and uncertain what to do next.
In terms of the overall continuity of the program, people may wonder what the real importance of these program segments is. Thus, after the audience has shed its tears, a show will come back from a commercial break with a farcical skit, or an amusing game. So is the point really to face reality, or is it just hypocritical exploitation of cheap sentimentality?
Satiating voyeuristic desires
There is also room for suspicion that the ideas for these programs and segments are "borrowed" from precedents. The "Resurrection: Love Stories" segment is very reminiscent of the extremely popular and controversial Jerry Springer Show in the US. You can clearly see its influence over the Chinese program.
The Jerry Springer Show invites ordinary people on the program to deal with emotional or interpersonal problems. It is common to see the parties in a love triangle run out of words and resort to fisticuffs. Though most Americans think of the show as being vulgar, and don't want their children to watch it, ratings have been consistently high, surpassing the somewhat more intelligent offerings like Oprah Winfrey or David Letterman.
Larry King, the famous CNN host, has talked in his program about why Jerry Springer is number one in the ratings. He has argued that this phenomenon represents a change in the structure of American society, with TV-rather than, say, small-town gossip-satisfying people's voyeuristic desires. Though viewers often spend as much time criticizing the show as they do watching it, it remains a fact that people seem addicted to these naked displays of personal scandal, and don't want to miss a single episode in this running farce.
Adding insult to injury?
Recently, an even more concrete problem arose out of the "Plan for Success" segment of Red and White Victory. The show has faced repeated protests by social welfare organizations and disadvantaged groups. Among these, a number of groups have issued a joint declaration accusing the program's producers, however good their intentions, of using "methods incompatible with good social work."
The groups argue that shows like Red and White Victory deprive the individuals on the shows of their rights and dignity, and the individuals themselves often inadvertently invite contempt and deepen stereotypes. The social welfare groups have encouraged people to refuse to watch these variety shows, and the two sides have gone so far as a face-to-face confrontation.
Hsieh Tung-ju, special representative from southern Taiwan of the League of Welfare Organizations for the Disabled of the ROC, offers specific incidents as examples: "One host, using a ridiculing tone of voice, asked a handicapped youth, 'Do you have a girlfriend, too?' and another asked a little girl, 'Do you know that your family is very poor?'" Hsieh explains that these shows are a serious blow to the many years of effort social welfare groups have dedicated to changing society's image of the disadvantaged as "pathetic charity cases."
In one case, "just so that a single elderly lady could go on TV and get sympathy, they relentlessly dug up tragic events that even she would have preferred not to discuss, and, under the glare of the audience, went so far as to press the old lady to tell how much she owes in back rent. Then the host and guest stars promised contributions like they were shouting out auction bids or craps bets, turning their charity into a cheap joke," says Wu Hsing-hua of the Taipei branch of the Taiwan Environmental Protection Union, offering this specific example to criticize the program producers for their lack of proper understanding of social work.
Vincent Wan, a doctoral candidate at the Sun Yat-sen Academic Institute if the Chinese Culture University, whose dissertation is on Taiwan's television culture, wrote a letter to the newspaper accusing the producers and hosts of Red and White Victory of "false charity."
As an example, he spoke of an episode in which a Mr. Fan, who suffers from cerebral palsy, went on the program hoping to get assistance to go back to Korea to pay respects to his parents. The value of the desired prize was NT$100,000. When the star failed at the "challenge," according to the rules of the game no prize was awarded, but host Hu Kua-who makes NT$160,000 an hour-immediately promised to pay for an airline ticket and arrange for Mr. Fan to go to Korea as soon as possible.
"If that were the end of the story, we could applaud the big star for transcending the vulgar and fulfilling his social educational responsibilities on an otherwise shallow variety program," says Wang. But after that segment came one called "Red and White Magistrate," in which a "judge" exposes the personal foibles and love lives of the celebrities.
The segment regularly reveals such things as that a certain artist earns NT$1-10 million per month, that one lost over NT$10 million gambling, and that another, when not filming, just plays poker. "The gluttony, gambling and womanizing of highly paid stars is not a good example for young people to emulate, but the celebrities themselves brag about it to the audience, without even a fig leaf of cover. Compared to the measly NT$100,000 for the 'Plan for Success' segment, isn't that false charity to the extreme!?"
What do we need these for?
"It's not that variety shows should not be allowed to deal with problems of romance and emotion, but the question is how they deal with them," says NCCU journalism professor Lin Fang-mei. The producer and host are decisive: Their personal qualities can make a great difference to the profundity or shallowness of this material.
As an example, she points to an interview done by former Night of Roses host Tseng Ching-yu with Sun Tsui-feng. The focus was placed on how a mother deals with the death of a child. It had a psychologically and emotionally therapeutic effect, and was a positive, outstanding example.
On the other hand, on Super Sunday, when Chang Hsiao-yen interviewed Chiang Shu-na, Chang put most of the emphasis on the rough childhood of Chiang and her sister Chiang Hui. It gave Lin Fang-mei the feeling that "the naked replaying of a person's emotions is a violation of personal privacy."
Lin argues that the focus of such explorations should be on such issues as: What is the impact on our lives of a given story? What do we need to know this story for? A good story should explore the meaning of life, and how to raise the quality of life. "Currently, most programs are stuck at the level of pricking people to bring out certain emotions, which is equivalent to depriving the celebrities and the audience of their rights."
Real love?
"These subjects are very sensitive, and need to be handled with professionalism." Annie Chen feels that TV program production units in Taiwan lack the necessary skills, which is the main reason programs have remained at a crude level.
She takes True Love Match as a case in point. In fact, it is one of the few programs to invite specialists on as guest commentators, to explain and explore the roots of problems for people. Nevertheless, the producers do not necessarily respect the views of the professionals.
For example, Chen has informed the producers that clinically it is considered best to shield the children as much as possible from the parents' marital problems, so it would be best if the children of the people on the show were not on the program or in the audience. Chen is thus furious that each episode still includes interviews with the children. They are asked to wish their parents well in their new marriage, or to criticize their parents for how they (the children) have suffered in the past. They have even asked children to give their opinions about their parents' selection of a new partner. "This is forcing the children to assume responsibility for their parent. If their parent's new marriage fails, how will the children feel then?"
Just following orders
Kuo Li-hsi teaches in the fields of broadcasting and TV at NCCU and is now doing postdoctoral work in the Department of Media and Communication at the University of London's Goldsmiths College. He has been observing and writing about Taiwan television since the 1980s. His research reveals that the shallow social consciousness of today's variety shows in fact goes back a long way.
When Taiwan only had the three non-cable stations, there was a rule that each variety show had to dedicate a certain portion of time to "morally uplifting" music. And whenever some politically tinged event came around-like National Day or a Kuomintang Party Congress-many prime-time variety shows were ordered to produce segments "expressing concern" for people in the lower strata of society.
In an article critiquing Taiwan variety shows, Kuo talks about the early program Diamond Stage hosted by Hu Kua and Cheng Chin-yi. In this all-too-typical example, stars would go to the workplaces of people with low-status occupations, put on their uniforms like stage props, and spend a few minutes playing at traffic cop, postman, street cleaner, long-distance bus stewardess and so on. This alleged display of understanding of their lives of hard labor was supposed to express the concern and respect of the mass media for them.
But, wonders Kuo, "In standing at an intersection waving at traffic, or in picking up a few bags of garbage, did these celebrities really come into contact with lower level society?" Could the audience really understand through these programs questions like: Can a street cleaner earn enough to support a family in Taipei, where the cost of living is exorbitant? How is their health affected by inhaling huge amounts of car exhaust daily? Do street cleaners have a comprehensive accident insurance plan? How long do they work each day?
Kuo says that it is impossible to see how Diamond Stage had real respect for these low-status people. Most of the time in the "social concern segments" was spent in bantering among the hosts (who got their start doing vulgar "dinner shows") and the guest star. Was it supposed to express respect just because the hosts bowed and said something like "that looked like hard work" at the end? For those struggling to hang on at the lower rungs of the social ladder, such gimmicks not only provide no solace, they are an insult.
Media altar
"Television carries the most authority, so it should be correspondingly more demanding of itself and accept a larger responsibility for social education," avers Kuo. On the other hand, viewers must also wake up. "It is easy to see the direct harm caused by rampant sex and violence on TV. But the distorted value systems on these other shows, in which truth becomes inseparable from fiction, are even more insidious."
Kuo says that most people already find it difficult to extract meaning from reality in all its complexity and suffer information overload. People usually take the easy way out, and turn to television. The uninterrupted flow of dubiously "re-constructed," or outright fictional, information can temporarily offer solace to their tired souls.
When viewers and the media cooperate to mix entertainment and information, misleading symbols and real significance, it becomes impossible to distinguish them. In the end all programs become entertainment, and TV becomes one enormous "variety show" in which viewers completely lose their autonomy.
Thus, as viewers surround themselves with scenes of tears and emotion in hopes of temporarily forgetting their own troubles, they should also ask themselves: What will be the result of the increasingly blurred line between real life and fictional drama?
p.48
Recently variety shows have offered a series of segments involving finding long-lost friends, thanking benefactors and expressing concern for the disadvantaged, allowing the celebrity participants-who usually play everything for laughs-to show a more emotional side. The photo shows celebrity guest Wu Tsung-hsien (center) and hosts Chang Hsiao-yen (right) and Harlem Yu (left) on Super Sunday. In the "Super Mission" segment, they searched for a girl that Wu had a secret crush on in high school.
p.51
Lin Jung-shan was paralyzed in a work-related accident 26 years ago. Encouraged by friends, he went on the program Red and White Victory. Though he got the prize he wanted, Lin, who lives in a very restricted space, has been unsettled by the many visitors he has received since then.
p.52
The "Plan for Success" segment of Red and White Victory has attracted protests from many social welfare groups who feel that the producers are dealing with social problems inappropriately, and adding insult to injury for the individuals involved. The photo shows a person who had been on the program complaining to Chen Chu (right), director of the Taipei City Bureau of Social Affairs, that she did not receive any of the money contributed on her behalf by viewers. (photo by Huang Tzu-ming)
p.53
illustration by Lee Su-ling
p.54
Increasing amounts of sex and violence on TV are obviously harmful. But the distorted values which result from the conflation of reality and fiction have an even more pernicious effect.
illustration by Lee Su-lingIncreasing amounts of sex and violence on TV are obviously harmful. Butthe distorted values which result from the conflation of reality and fiction have an even more pernicious effect.
@List.jpg?w=522&h=410&mode=crop&format=webp&quality=80)
@List.jpg?w=522&h=410&mode=crop&format=webp&quality=80)
@List.jpg?w=522&h=410&mode=crop&format=webp&quality=80)